


Flesh and Blood

by Holo_Bayliss



Series: The tale of Galahad and Tristan [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, But they are not lancelot and galahad, Eventual Hartwin, Eventual Percilot, Far in the future Hartwin, Genuine Nice Guy Chester KIng, Genuine dad Harry Hart, Multi, Roxy and Eggsy are agents, eventual Roxlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 11:03:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3934399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Holo_Bayliss/pseuds/Holo_Bayliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-Or the one where Harry Hart is a Super spy and a Single Dad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had to start writing this because it’s interfering with the one I am currently working on. Anyway… Very young Daddy!Harry keeps annoying me. Like very young, like barely 18 years old Daddy!Harry.
> 
> I have other reasons for writing this as well.  
>  _I love you dad._
> 
> OH, BTW, I don't own this thing... If I did, they would be filming the sequel already. ;-D

10 Sept 1978-

He slammed the phone box door behind him and placed the two year old girl on the floor on top of their dirty suitcase. Looking down at the little girl, whose brown eyes were a dead give away as to who her parentage was, he smiled at her and ruffled the chestnut curls. He prayed that he was doing the right thing.

His step-father had punched him when he remarked that her mother had simply handed the girl over to him when he stopped in for his monthly visitation. She told him to not bring her back, ever. He knew he was starting to sport a blossoming black eye.

He wanted to be there for the girl. He had to be there for his own flesh and blood. He had noticed a worrying amount of bruises on the little one when he brought her to his parents home a month ago. This time she had a few more. Now she had a fucking split lip because his own mother had pushed her in to the blasted coffee table after spending ten minutes screaming at him for wanting to do his duty as a damn father and take care of the child on his fucking own. Thank you very much. 

But one needs money to get farther then sleeping in a box under the Vauxhall Arches and a two year old should not have to go with out dinner just because daddy didn’t have any money. His parents were fucking shit, in the twenty-four hours they were gone, they had shut down his bank account and refused any calls that he had made. He had twenty-two quid in cash and change and no place left to go.

That left the medal and the favour. He didn’t want to use it, but he was fucking desperate and he and his daughter were starting to get fucking cold. He scrubbed his hand across his face and looked at the phone sitting there, taunting him.

“I hope this works, Fiona, or daddy ain’t sure what he’s gonna do.”

He dug through his pockets and found enough change to hopefully make the call. He pulled the medal out of his pocket and ran his fingers over the numbers on the back of it. _09-09-74_  
He pushed the change into the phone and dialed the number. He pushed a breath slowly out and waited for the line to be picked up. 

“Customer complaints.”

He thought then spoke slowly, “Oxfords not brogues.” _Words to live by,_ his father used to say.

“Your complaint is registered. We hope we haven't lost you as a valuable customer.” The dispassionate voice on the other end of the phone spoke, then hung up on him. 

“Well, alright. I don't know what good that did.” He hung up the phone and looked down at his shivering baby. He picked her up and kicked the door open and picked up the suitcase. Finding a bench near the Victoria and Albert museum, he pulled a jumper out and slipped it over the little ones head. Then he draped her blanket around her and held out the tiny Paddington Bear for her to cuddle.  
Fiona snatched the bear from him and cuddled it then secured herself to his chest. Snuggling as deep as she could. The warmth seeped into him, warming him more then any warm fire could ever do. He squeezed her close and sighed. They were so fucked, but he wouldn't give up. He would figure something out. 

As they sat on the bench, he felt the wind slowly pick up and a heard a distant rumble of thunder. Fat drops of rain slowly fell on them. He swore under his breath and pulled them back inside the grimy red phone box. Figures that he would lose his fucking umbrella on the train ride down. It was such a nice posh one, too. A proper umbrella that you could fit at least three people under semi-comfortably. If he had still had it, they could have stayed on the bench until the wind had started to blow too hard. Instead they are huddling in this shitty phone box that someone might end up kicking them out of because they need to use it. 

He watched the rain start to fall harder and splatter against the glass of the phone box, smearing the dirt and grime of the city into a disgusting slurry. Watching with mild fascination as the slurry ran down the glass, he totally missed the black cab that pulled up to the phone box. 

A man knocked on the door and smiled at him as he yelped and quickly jerked the door open.

“I am sorry, sir. Just trying to keep the little one dry. Lost our brolly on the train on the way down here.” He stated covering the young one's head with her blanket, as he stepped out. “We'll just go- over by the building 'til the rain lets up a bit.”

The man looked him over and smiled, “Nonsense, go get in the cab over there. I'll take you somewhere where you and the little darling here will be safe for the night. I'm Chester King.” He extended his hand. 

“Harry Hart.” Harry stated taking the hand and shaking it. “Why are you offering your cab up?”

“ You called in your favour.”  
<3~<3

He never imagined he would be sitting in what he thought was a dining room above a bespoke tailor shop eating a bowl of soup with his daughter and the man who brought them here. He found out there was a small room off the dining room that they were welcome to use for a while. At least until the man asked for some kind of payment, he assumed. 

Fiona was making a mess of her jumper and the table as she dribbled what little soup she could get into her mouth. He thought about just dumping the soup into a sippy cup he had in the suitcase for her, at least it would be slightly less messy and, he assumed, it would still taste quite good cold. The man, Mr King, at the head of the table spoke pulling him away from his thoughts. 

“Harry... May I call you Harry?” 

“Yes, sir.” Harry answered, trying desperately to be polite, thinking it was odd that this man wasn't tossing him and Fiona on the street for the mess she was making. 

“How old is your little girl?”

“Two, sir. Name's Fiona.” As he wiped up a bit of the soup dribbling on the table with the pristine ironed napkins. _Honestly, only his mother irons napkins, sheets, and pants,_ he thought. 

Mr King chuckled, “I think cleaning up after her is a bit of a lost cause, do you agree?” 

Harry spoke carefully, folding the napkin back up, “Probably, but I don't want us to be kicked out back on the streets because of our mess. I really want to thank you for this. I know you said it was because of the medal, but this is worth more than any favour we could have been owed.” 

“I am going to offer you one more thing. If you are willing. It would guarantee you and your daughter the life you both deserve.”

Harry felt his face betray him, a look of interest passed over it. 

Mr King smiled again, “A job came up in the organization I work for. I am offering you a once in a life time opportunity, Harry. If you make it through the selection process you could end up with a most wonderful and well paying job.”

Harry gazed at him, “What is the job, sir?” 

“A Kingsman agent, young man. A spy of the highest caliber. A modern Knight.”

Once again Harry's face totally betrayed him, painting his interest and enthusiasm all over itself. He went to answer Mr King when Fiona picked up the spoon next to him and smacked her dad square in the nose with it.  
<3~<3

10 Sept 1979-

They offered him a sitter for while he was trying desperately to pass the tests. He was grateful that they let her stay at the manor in a separate _non-flooding_ room. They gave them a fucking puppy, that his daughter decided should be named Mr Pickles. Everybody thought that name was fucking funny until they found out a two year old little girl thought it up. He wasn't going to admit he did help a little and that he thought the name was the sweetest thing he had heard her say in a great while. Of course besides the repeated _I love you, daddy_ 's she had been flooding him with. He would never be tired of hearing that. Never. 

The final test, that blasted _Shoot the dog,_ nearly made him want to shoot the man administering it. Chester King stared at him as he held the gun in his lap. 

One year. It had taken him one full year to reach this point. He thought about it, maybe Fiona would forgive him and when he got his first paycheck he would buy her two Yorkie puppies. He lifted the gun, pulled the ball out of a pocket in his siren suit, said, “Fetch, Mr Pickles,” and tossed the ball. Pointing the gun at the pup's running form, he fired.  
The pup deposited the ball on the floor in front of his feet. 

Ten minutes later he got the code name Galahad and Fiona got a fenced in garden and a Wendy house. 

Two weeks later he saved the PM from an assassin's bullet. The first front page was tacked on the wall of his office. That evening he tacked the first drawing of him, Fiona, and Mr Pickles on the wall of his bedroom. 

One week after that he stopped a bombing on the tube on their way to buy new shoes for Fiona. She was with him. She knighted him later that day while they played tea party in the Wendy house. The second front page was tacked up that night. A Polaroid was added to his bedroom wall. 

One month later he helped stop a human trafficking ring in Camden. Another front page was added. He brought home the largest stuffed Paddington Bear he could find for Fiona and a new chew toy for Mr Pickles. That night he fell asleep on the chesterfield with Fiona under her Blankie. In the morning, she gave him a drawing of a stick figure him with a cape and a sword. He hung it on the bedroom wall. 

By New Years Day, he had seven front pages on his office wall and just as many photos and drawings on his bedroom wall.

<3~<3  
Over the next couple of years he was pretty much relegated to local missions. Anything that could be done with in twenty-four hours. Not that he wasn't getting his fair share of missions. On the contrary, he was getting plenty of missions. He was happy to be doing these little missions given that they didn't keep him away from his little girl for too long.


	2. Chapter 2

-2-  
July 1984-

It was suggested by Arthur that his daughter be sent away to school. Not that he didn't respect the man, but he wasn't just going to send her off somewhere that wasn't fully vetted. Besides he didn't even know if he wanted her to go away to school. 

He was already sending her to a very nice school right near their home anyway. It was a lovely school and it came highly recommended by a lovely lady just down the street from his Mews. If he was to be sent on international missions he'd, honestly, prefer her to be at home safe and looked after by some one who understood the life style he was leading. Besides, he didn't want Fiona to suddenly resent being sent away, like she had done something wrong and then hate him for it. 

They had walked to the small park that was a few blocks from their Mews to walk the dog but also so Harry could quietly contemplate the decision that he honestly did not want to make.   
Fiona sat on the swings, watching her dog. Her eight year old mind wondering what Mr Pickles was thinking about as he dragged his nose across the grass. 

“Dad, do you think Mr Pickles is happy with us?”, she asked watching the dog sniff a small pile of leaves, pulling his lead slightly away from Harry. 

He'd honestly never thought about it. Mr Pickles was just a dog, a beloved part of the family, but still just a dog. He watched his little girl drop to the ground. She sat down and called the dog over to her. The dog looked up from the pile of leaves he was sniffing and pulled the lead as he bound toward Fiona. Mr Pickles knocked her to her back and licked her face. 

He chuckled, “I think that answers your question, Pumpkin.” He couldn't part with this. He could not deal with his baby girl being in some posh boarding school. If he couldn't adjust to one and had to beg his parents to bring him home and let him go to the local comprehensive, he certainly wouldn't force his daughter into the same situation. He'd figure out a way to make this work.   
He heard a rumble of thunder and looked up at the darkening London sky. Looking back down at his lovely, smart little girl, getting licked to death by her insane Yorkshire Terrier nearly made his heart explode. 

“Fiona, love, we should head home before we get caught in the rain.” He said, pulling on Mr Pickles lead again, forcing the dog to abandon his attempt at murder by puppy. 

“Why didn't you bring the umbrella?” She asked pulling herself off the ground and scratching at the Yorkie's ears.

“Because it's getting fixed. Remember when I came home the other day and it was all bent up?” He asked as they walked away from the park and got close to home. 

“Yes, you said you had to hit some very bad men with it. Honestly, dad, are you really a tailor? 'Cause I think you are some kind of super hero most days. So, are you?” She looked up at him as he tried to unlock the door. He paused looking down at his brilliant little angel and made the easiest decision ever.

“Actually, Pumpkin, I'm more like James Bond,” He said, “I'm not even remotely like Superman. Can't fly.”

“Knew it,” She smiled, the big one that nearly encompassed her entire face, that cause her dimples to show and forced him, no matter how angry or annoyed he was, to smile directly back to her. He, honestly, didn't think he could ever love anyone as much as he loved his darling daughter. 

“You can't tell anyone. It's our secret.” He whispered conspiratorially to her. 

She kept smiling as she nodded. 

He called Merlin later that night and informed him that he needed a list of child minders that were vetted and trained by Kingsman. He didn't care. Especially since he was informed that the current Gareth was teaching Fiona how to shoot guns while watching her after school if he couldn't be home to get her. He would hire a fucking nanny until she was sixteen, he wasn't sending her to a boarding school.   
A week later he called Fiona from Paris and promised to bring her home a present. He brought her home a small Eiffel Tower and stuffed animal. A front page went on the office wall, a Maths test went on the fridge, and a picture of Fiona in her ballet kit went on his bedroom wall. 

He tried hard to get the summers with no missions. He begged and pleaded so that he could just take her on a holiday. Just for them, no missions, no Merlin whispering in his ear, no worrying about people shooting at him. But they still ended up stopping a couple of international messes while on holiday in Brighton. He had three front pages for the wall, three lovely family photos, and a rather bad caricature of them for the bedroom wall. 

That cemented things for Fiona, she was certain her dad was James Bond. It only made her want to do the same thing he was doing. Maybe someday she would be James Bond, too. 

<3~<3  
October 1989-  
Mr Pickles died on a Thursday. Fiona cried and Harry held her as hard as he could. He told her Mr Pickles was chasing all the rabbits and vermin he could in doggie heaven. The vet suggested cremation and an urn. Harry decided on the more unconventional act of taxidermy, which is something his uncle had done for a favorite horse. Once he brought the taxidermy dog home he placed it in the main floor bathroom with the butterfly specimens. 

Fiona refused to use that bathroom again until she was sixteen. 

<3~<3  
Sept 1994-

He insisted that she go to University. She had the blasted grades to do it. She could get into any place she wanted. Instead he was staring at his daughter through the two way mirror as Merlin delivered the _speech_ about the most dangerous job interview in the world. He was half tempted to go upstairs and shoot Arthur for proposing her for Tristan. His proposal, an idiot's son who he got talked into proposing, was making eyes at Fiona as she sat on one of the crappy beds filling out her body bag form. He slowly reached for his gun, he was going to shoot someone and it might as well be the boy staring at his daughter. 

Merlin stopped him before he did something dangerous. “Go to the range and shoot something, Galahad. Fiona will be fine.” 

He turned to shoot a glare at Merlin when they heard a yelp from the room. Fiona had his proposal by the ear and was dragging him back across the room to his bed. Harry relaxed slightly. Maybe she would make it through all this training and end up as Tristan. 

Harry found out the next day that Fiona figured out that they could break the glass using a pipe like a Rounders bat from Arthur. The planted agent still _died_. 

“If she makes it through the training, I have one request.” Harry looked at his boss imploringly. 

“What is it, Galahad?” Arthur demurred.

“No honey traps, ever. Never, never, never.” He shook his head. He didn't want her to ever go through that. 

Arthur smirked, “I can't promise you anything, but I can promise that we will never tell you if she ever gets sent on one.” 

“That's not what I requested.”

<3~<3  
Sept 1995-

He watched as Arthur shook her hand as she was congratulated and welcomed as the new Tristan. Merlin gave her a set of keys for the house next door on their Mews. When Harry got her alone finally, he gave her a bear hug and told her he was undoubtedly the proudest father that there ever was.

Fiona cried. 

Three weeks later he got a postcard in the post from Greece. All it said was, _“Hang this on my office wall. I'll be back in two more weeks. Feed and walk Bob.”_   
By the end of the year she had seven postcards on her wall. Harry counted his front pages, he had forty-nine total. He was certain he was really the proudest father ever.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to [Ellie Goulding's song Explosions](https://youtu.be/MUBnVcy7BIg) on repeat.

-3-  
November 1996-

Tristan brought Lancelot's body back to HQ, at least what was left of him. There wasn't anything left of the men who killed him. It wasn't her fault he was dead, but Harry knew she was still blaming herself. He found her sitting in the dark of the recruits bunk room with her knees pulled up against her chest crying. 

“I shouldn't have waited. I should've went in before Leon told me to. I could've saved him.” She wiped her eyes on her jacket sleeve. She sniffled and looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes ringed in red. “How am I going to tell his family? How, dad?” 

Harry sat on the bed next to her and reached out his hand. As their fingers brushed, he grabbed her hand, pulled her into his lap, and held on to her, “You won't have to. They'll send Arthur to do that, thankfully. It never gets any easier, before you ask. I have spent a couple of nights down here wondering what in the hell I could have done better to prevent a death.” He stroked her hair carefully, “Remember, Pumpkin, this was not your fault. None of it.” A whimper escaped Fiona as she buried her head in the crook of his neck. “None of it, Fiona.” 

He kept repeating that until she calmed and fell to sleep. He laid her down on the hard bed and curled up on one of the other ones. 

When they woke up the next morning they both brought in recruits. They shot glances at each other and laid down one hundred pounds each on whether or not theirs would make it to the final test. They laughed when James and Lee shook hands. 

<3~<3  
November 1997-

Lee and James both made it through the loyalty test. The other candidate, a snob picked by Gawain, was currently trying to untie himself from the tracks and failing miserably. Lee looked over and laughed as Tristan winked at Galahad. Literally winked at him. Galahad smirked and then rolled his eyes. They all rode back to shop together then shared a cab. Tristan and James getting off at a club about three blocks from where Lee and Harry were finally dropped off at. 

“What was that all about?” Lee asked as they entered Harry's house. 

“What was what all about?” Harry was slighted confused. 

“That wink Tristan gave you. You two involved or something?” Lee asked quite seriously. 

Harry stared at him wide eyed, “Oh God, no. No, no, no, no. Emphatically, no. She's my daughter, Lee.” Harry lead him into his front room. “She does that to annoy Merlin. Sort of a non-verbal communication between the two of us. She was telling me to have fun, but she's not going to drag my butt into the office tomorrow if we drink too much.”

Lee sat down, “What'd you tell her in reply?”

“Don't shag the boy.” Harry stated bluntly, “I doubt if she will,” handing Lee a bottle of Guinness. “Now, we have twenty-four hours uninterrupted. You can ask me anything you want, except what the next test is. Any questions?” 

Lee just smirked, “How'd you end up doin' this?” 

“Well, that is a rather interesting story,” and Harry started telling it. 

The next day Fiona and James came bounding in at the same time he and Lee did. Fiona shot him a look and he looked down at the floor and mumbled, “fuck.” 

Lee glanced at him, wondering if she had shagged James. 

“Are you fucking serious? He did not.” Harry asked.

A smirk was all he got in response. 

“Well, I'll be over tonight at six and I am beating his high score.” He pointed at James, “You will not beat my high score on _Duck Hunt_.” 

“And Legend of Zelda.” Fiona added. 

Harry glared at James. “Is that all you did last night? Drink and play Nintendo.” 

“No. We played my Playstation, too, played _Resident Evil_ until about four this morning. ” Fiona answered.

Harry simply smiled back and settled into the bullet train's seat. 

<3~<3  
21 December 1997-

Neither one of them would give up, until Lee jumped on the fucking grenade. For him. He had dropped the medal off at the Unwin's flat and now he was sitting at home staring at his telly not really paying attention to what was on. He heard his front door unlock, then it jiggled open, and a voice called out to him. He felt her sit on the chesterfield next to him. 

She took the glass of brandy he was holding from his hand and pulled him into a tight embrace, reminding him that everything was OK and it wasn't his fault. She kept repeating that to him. He knew the truth though. Lee's death was entirely on him. Lee died because of his carelessness. His inability to properly check the mark. It was his fault and he would hold onto it until he died. 

When he woke up the next day he found them both sprawled out on the chesterfield under a rather ugly but warm quilt and Fiona's tiny blankie. Fiona's arms tightly wrapped around him. 

<3~<3  
January 2005- 

He saw the gurney roll past him. He heard their shouts as they rolled her into the operating room. He remembered hearing Merlin shouting about armor piercing rounds and her handler being shit. He could still hear Merlin shouting about getting her a new handler as he barreled toward the door of the operating room. Merlin finally catching him and pulling him back toward the seats in the hall.

He was pushed into an uncomfortable seat and a bottle of beer was pushed into his hands. He looked up to see who had given him this unexpected beer. Gareth threw himself into the seat next to him. The man's auburn hair and suit were disheveled. Harry looked into the man's greenish hazel eyes. He had the gall to not look properly disappointed in himself. Harry decided to chastise his fellow agent for that.

“You were supposed to cover her. Watch her fucking back. To keep this shit from happening. If she dies, this is all on you.” Harry waved the bottle of Gareth's homebrew, recognized the label and the name. Harry choked back some tears, “I will never forgive you for this. Never.” 

“Harry. She was hurt before I even got there. I pulled her out of that fight. I kept her alive. This is her fucking handler's fault. He sent her in there blind and without proper knowledge.” Gareth looked back at him, stricken, “You fucking know I would never let anything happen to her. You fucking know it. God damn it, Harry, I fucking love her. I wish it was me on that table getting three rounds pulled out of me instead of her. I wish it had been me who was told to go in instead of her.” 

“You're the same fucking age as I am, Eddie.” Harry spoke, slightly defeated. 

“I know. Fiona don't give a shit and neither should you.” Gareth- _Eddie_ \- answered back. 

Harry simply huffed in response. 

It was a week later when Fiona finally opened her eyes and regained consciousness, that he gave his blessing for the already happening relationship. He also relayed that he caught Lancelot and Percival making out in fitting room two. Fiona cursed a blue streak and told him where to find the two hundred quid she owed him. 

It took her a year to fully recover. Her first mission back was with him. He was thrilled. Merlin was not. 

<3~<3  
1 February 2014-

Ector and Gareth were both fucking dead. Fiona wanted to find the people who killed them, but Lancelot and Percival already did. They blew up the building and took out the whole fucking cell. They drank the old brandy that nobody really liked to their memory.

Fiona abstained from bringing in a candidate. She said she just couldn't do it. They ended up going back home and drinking every bottle of Gareth's _Sir Galahad and Lady Tristan_ brew he had. They ended up finding the actual recipe, as well, Fiona vowing to brew the shit up in memory of Gareth.

The next day he bailed his candidate out of jail and sent Fiona the first of many rather odd texts. He didn't know how she would react to it. Fiona replied with a confused face. 

The boy was too damn adorable, that was the problem. It really was a problem. He punched the glass out during the first test. While not wearing a shirt. He saw it on the video feed. He spent the next half hour convincing himself he did not need to go find Eggsy and lick his entire chest. He was certain that Fiona was getting suspicious because of his odd drunken one AM texts about the boy's rear end.

Even Merlin was noticing the overly affectionate manner he was taking with Eggsy. Even Lance and Percy wasn't that affectionate with _their_ Roxy and she was their niece. At least they didn't want to debauch her in fitting room two, but Merlin did. 

Arthur pulled Harry aside one day while he was walking around HQ. 

“As soon as it gets down to two candidates, Galahad, we are ending the trials. We need these two agents replaced.” Arthur turned at looked him straight in the eyes, a twinkle in Arthur's, “I like that boy you brought in. He's a fine young man and he will make a very good agent. I see a lot of you in the boy.” 

Harry stood alone in the hallway as Arthur walked away toward his office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everybody who has been reading, commenting, and subscribing to this stupid little story. You do not know what this means to me.  
> Thank you so very much.

-4-  
November 2014-

Harry watched as Fiona messed with the Kegerator she had installed in her kitchen. He thought it was damn silly, considering, but it was her house and he couldn't really say anything. He did have a taxidermy dog in the first floor loo. Maybe it was a bit much, but he went so well with the bugs. Her dog was cremated and displayed elegantly in a lovely urn on a shelf in her living room. He cleared his throat as she messed with the thing again. 

“Are we going to drink some of that or just sit here and mess with the machine?” He asked, trying to sound petulant. 

“Yes, we will drink and we will drink a lot. So much that I will beat your arse so badly at Halo that you will forget to win at Mario Kart.” She turned and handed him a glass of the amber colored liquid, “Although, I have one request. Please stop sending me texts about Eggsy's arse. It's embarrassing.” 

He blinked and looked up at her with his sweetest look. The one that usually ended up getting him what ever the hell he wanted from a mark or co-worker. He'd gotten out of messes with that look. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” 

She huffed at him, “Honestly, Dad. He's barely an adult, twenty-five at most. I admit the young man is fucking cuter than shit, but if you don't stop sending me texts and photos, I'm going to have to tell him. Tell the boy, have your messy shag, and let it go.”

Harry looked down at her dinning room table. It wasn't that simple, it would never be that simple. “It's not just a simple infatuation, Fiona. I genuinely want to be with the boy. I want to be with him for as long as we have. Sort of like you and Eddie,” Harry just had to drop that in, “only I planned on telling you before it went as far as yours did. I am truly sorry about him being gone. I wish things had gone differently for you.” He really did. Eddie had been good to her for the nine years they were together. 

He could tell Fiona chose to ignore his comments about Gareth. She spoke with a slight hitch, “Well, find out if he feels the same way, then have the little shit come talk to me. But now I owe you a thrashing on every game I own while we get so fucking drunk we can't walk.” 

He woke up the next morning to a hangover, the smell of bacon butties, and the realization that Fiona had some how become his best friend some time between her birth and that day. 

<3~<3  
24 January 2015-

Arthur looked properly pissed off. Like proper pissed off. His shit candidate was still struggling to untie himself from the tracks when he turned to Eggsy and Roxy. Percival looked like a puffed up proud uncle, as he should be. Harry was smirking at him, he wondered if Fiona was going to win the pool out right. 

Arthur walked up to Roxy and extended his hand, “Congratulations, Ector.” Roxy shook his hand. Arthur turned to Eggsy and shook his as well, “Congratulations, Gareth.” 

_Yes, she did. That's three thousand quid. Hopefully, she'll share some of that with me._ Harry thought. 

“So, Merlin, who won the pool?” Arthur asked, a small smirk played cross his face.

Merlin looked up from his tablet. “Tristan, sir, won it out right. She predicted it would come down to these two and what code names they would be given. Even had the test it would come down to, too.” 

He has a very impressed look, “Good girl. Very good girl. When's she supposed to be back in country?”

“Tonight,” Harry and Merlin both answered. The two younger agents turned and looked at them. An odd look was playing across Eggsy's face. 

“Good, tell her, Merlin, that we will have the debriefing eight AM Tuesday morning. As for you two,” He pointed to the two newest agents, “go home with your mentors for twenty-four hours, then return here for suit fittings and a lot of paper work. I don't want to see any of you before nine AM on Tuesday morning. Understood?” 

Four voices spoke in unison, “Yes, sir.”

“And Galahad.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Try and be on time this once.” Arthur spoke, a teasing edge to his voice. 

“Yes, sir.” Harry answered, feeling slightly chastised, as he lead Eggsy to the bullet train. 

He over heard Arthur say to Merlin as the doors shut, “The man would be late to his own funeral.”

He didn't plan on ever testing that theory. 

The ride back to his house was unbelievably quiet. He didn't honestly think Eggsy could be that quiet in his company. He half expected the boy to be chattering off his ear asking random questions about almost everything. When they reached the Mews and entered his home, Eggsy did speak quietly, “Do I get one of these nice houses, too?” 

He gazed at his lovely boy and beamed, “Yes. Actually the old Gareth lived kitty corner from me and across the way from Tristan,” He pointed out the window, “just there.” 

The house looked just as lovely as it did when Eddie lived there. Fiona was obviously taking care of the potted plants out front and trying to keep things neat and tidy for the next person who would live there. It was a blessing to Harry that it would be his lovely Eggsy and his family that would move in soon. 

He watched Eggsy's face. The look that crossed it didn't seem upset, but oddly calm, “Of course it's been properly cared for and cleared out for you. Nothing that was the previous Gareth's is still there. There is a possibly that there could be some of his old brew master things in the cellar, but I can ask Tristan to get it out for you. She is still looking for the recipe for his Kingsman Brew.” 

Eggsy spoke, “What was he like? The man I replaced?” 

Harry guided Eggsy into his dining room and sat him down at the table, he put the kettle on and pulled some tea bags out. He wondered how to describe a man who was for the most part on his nerves, yet was so caring and loving toward his daughter, and still made him want to agree to pushing Arthur to make a pub that sold only their own craft beer instead of forcing half the agents into working for the tailor shop. He smirked at the thought of _Kingsman_ Brand Brew hand made by Eddie “Gareth” Cosgrove. 

Harry brought two cups in with some sugar and milk placing them on the table between him and Eggsy, “He was a good, fair, and decent man. He knew what needed to be done and could do it quickly and efficiently.” Harry was about to say something about how Eddie loved Fiona with all his heart and that he was going to ask her to marry him before his untimely death, when the door flew open with a blast of frigid London air. Eggsy made to stand when Harry calmed him with a single touch of his hand. 

The reason for the door blasting open, kicked it shut, and then pulled her scuffed Oxfords off, “The fuck are these abominations?” Her voice filtered into the dining room, “Bloody hell, this jacket is rank.”  
Eggsy looked nearly heart broken at the person's disgust at his jacket and shoes. Harry watched as his daughter finally rounded the corner and stared into the room. 

“The fuck is that shit out there? Who the fuck would even want to be seen in public in that jacket?” She looked around the room and spotted Eggsy glaring at her, “Sorry, bruv, didn't realize they were yours. No offense, really, mate.”

He nodded, “Well. I guess none taken.” 

“Congrats on becoming an Kingsman. You won me three thousand quid. Brought some of the best shit beer that Sainsbury's had,” She placed the six pack of beer on the table and handed Harry a wad of cash, “Here's your share. Now don't go buying me some shit present I can't use. I still don't know what that thing does that you bought me when you won the Lance Percy pool.”  
Harry smirked at Eggsy. Fiona continued to ramble as she entered his kitchen and made herself some tea. She came back in and flopped into one of the dining chairs and kicked her feet on to the table. Her rainbow colored toe socks clashing oddly with the dove grey of her trousers. 

Eggsy glanced back and forth between Harry and Fiona, his brain obviously trying to figure out what in the hell was going on, “OK, what the fuck is going on? Why's she not getting her arse shouted at for having her feet on the table?” 

She had a devilish grin on her face, “You gonna tell your boy there or should we let him work it out on his own?” 

Eggsy looked as if Harry should just take pity on him and just tell him, “Eggsy meet Fiona Elizabeth Hart, my daughter, who is also Kingsman Agent Tristan. Now, Fiona, get your fucking feet off the table.” 

Fiona huffed, dropped her colorful feet to the floor, and stuck her hand across the table at Eggsy, “Pleased to finally be properly introduced.” 

Eggsy shook her hand and then looked at her, “So, where's your mum?”

Fiona shrugged, “No fucking clue, even dad don't know.” 

Harry nodded and Eggsy snorted, “Some fucking spies you are.” 

Harry couldn't fault Eggsy for his observations skills on that. He leaned back in his chair and smiled into his tea cup, both his favorite people sitting in his dining room and they were being nice to each other. He was one fucking luck bastard. Especially, after it hit him that Eggsy's socked foot was rubbing on his shin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've had a bout of writer's block I have been fighting. I apologize to anyone following any of my stories.

-5-   
24 January 2015

Harry got up from the table as Eggsy and Fiona both chatted about Doctor Who, Red Dwarf, Monty Python, and The Avengers. Apparently, they both thought _Monty Python and they Holy Grail_ was the shit and Fiona was going to have to go home and bring it over for them to watch. Harry grabbed the shit beer and was about to comment that the movie was older then both of them sitting at the table and that he saw it in the cinema, _thank you very much_ , when Fiona grabbed his wrist. 

“Dad, don't stick that shit in the fridge, just pop it out the back door. It's bloody freezing outside, it'll be cold enough to drink when we are ready for it.” She smiled, letting go of his wrist.   
Harry nodded and walked to the back door of his home, setting the beer on the patio, and walking back in the house to see Fiona slip out the door. 

“Where's she running off to?” He asked Eggsy. 

Eggsy smiled, “She headed home to change and fetch the movie. Told us to get comfortable while we waited. Said something about not taking more then ten minutes. She told me to _entertain you_. I....”

Harry didn't wait for him to finish the sentence. He simply pushed the boy into the dining room wall and proceeded to kiss him within an inch of his life. It was messy, wet, and glorious. “I think this is entertaining me, you agree?” He said somewhere around Eggsy's collarbone. Eggsy simply moaned into the top of Harry's head. They spent the next five and a half minutes rutting against each other in the entry way. 

At least until the door flew open and Fiona ran in, “The fuck.... You two. Oh my God, seriously, dad. You couldn't even take him upstairs.” 

Harry pulled away and stared at his daughter, “But, you said ten minutes. Your ten minutes is usually twenty minutes.”

“Wrong agent. That's you projecting, Galadad.” She said heading back towards the den, “Are we ready to watch every Monty Python movie I have, plus The Princess Bride? Oh, and _Creeper McShit-head_ is outside stalking around the neighbourhood again. I called Merlin, but he said he's not sure he can do anything about him.”

Harry's eyes grew wide, “He's supposed to be locked up somewhere. You are not going home tonight.” He turned and looked at her, “Not until we can guarantee he's back locked up.” 

Eggsy looked at Harry oddly and mouthed, “Who?” 

Harry mouthed back, “Later.”

They all went back in to the den and with in twenty minutes of the first movie being started they passed out on the sofa in a pile of limbs and snuggles. 

<3~<3

When Harry woke up, he found he was buried under a quilt and Eggsy. He heard a song coming from the kitchen. He looked down at Eggsy and he smiled. Fiona was singing along with it. 

“Have you ever told her she couldn't sing?” Eggsy whispered. 

“No. I didn't want to crush her dreams of winning the Euro-vision Song Contest.” Harry smirked as he looked down at the blond head resting on his chest. 

“Why Euro-vision? Why not Britain's got talent?” Eggsy snuggled a bit more against Harry's chest and sighed a bit. 

“She likes Euro-vision better. She can't stand Simon Cowell. Oh, Don't get her started on The Great British Bake off or Master Chef.” Harry rubbed Eggsy's back a bit and allowed the warmth radiating from the younger man to seep into him. “Dear God, you are warm, Eggsy. You are like a little oven. I'm keeping you here. No moving, ever.” 

Fiona's singing got louder as she came back into the den with two cups of tea. “Tea?” she asked, looking down at the two snuggling men.

Harry looked up at her and smiled, “As long as you quit that awful warbling.”

“You two are terrible. He hasn't even been here for four hours and you two are already making out on the sofa.” She rolled her eyes dramatically, dropping the cups on the low table, and walked back out of the room to grab her own tea. 

Eggsy lifted his head and looked at Harry, “We weren't, though? We made out against the wall in the...”

“She's being overly dramatic because she can be.” Harry smirked, “She hasn't been able to give me shit for years. Literally.”

Fiona came back in the room and flopped on to the chair across the coffee table and stared at them. Harry turned his head and stared back, a small smile playing over his face as Eggsy attempted to burrow into his chest. 

“Your tea is getting cold, Unwin.” Fiona spoke, a measured amusement playing through her voice. 

“Is she going to give me the shovel talk? Please don't let her give me that.” Eggsy whispered. There was a small amount of terror in his voice, “Tell her Merlin already did two weeks ago when I grabbed your arse on the practice range and you smacked mine back.” 

Harry laughed. 

Fiona glared at him. “YOU WHAT? You didn't have the balls to tell me you two were already fucking around?”

“Now you know how I felt every fucking time you were dating someone.” Harry answered back. “Revenge for twenty-five years of torment.”

Fiona sighed, “I supposed it's only right. The forlorn texts were a bit much, though, dad. I am not going to spend the remaining time watching you to be gross, OK. So, get that through your thick skulls right now.”

Harry gently forced Eggsy to sit up so they could drink their cooling tea. He looked around and smiled, _I could get used to this. This is nice._

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [Tumblr](http://freya-deathstalker.tumblr.com/) if you wish to come bug me for updates or something... Or just talk about Colin Firth or Taron Egerton.  
> Here's a [a link](http://freya-deathstalker.tumblr.com/post/119791371614/i-thought-i-would-share-some-pictures-of-what-i) to what Fiona and Eddie "Gareth" Cosgrove look like in my mind. :-) I was asked so i thought i would post it.


End file.
